• Yeah, Misery Hates Company

    foxdemon
    Aug 11, 2011, 8:47:04 PM | 2 minutes

    My mother's off an at appointment so here I am alone.

    No one's coming over. I can just go ahead and continue to do the work that's left. 

    There's not much, but it still sucks. I'd rather have finished it later in the evening or tomorrow.

    What really sucks is that I stayed up all night last night working on recovering the lost corrections I did on my boyfriend's work (my computer decided I needed to re-correct the work), and I fought off sleep (I so rarely get tired in the night anymore, so of course last night was the night I was tired) to do this for him because I felt bad that it wasn't already done (despite the fact that it's not my fault I've been swamped with other things), and what happens? He's not even coming over (not even with his friend), nor am I going to see him (to hang with him and his friend). 

    I was excited, I was happy, I was giddy like a school-girl (shut up!), I was looking forward to dragging him to the park and back home to swim and to showing off my battle scars from painting/building the chair and clearing out the rocks, and I was looking forward to just seeing him. 

    What am I now? Well, I'm no longer motivated for the day (I will get my stuff done, but I've got no giddy energy to keep me going), I'm not excited, my whole mood is rather dreary, and I only have Monday to look forward to and Monday is going to suck because I'm going to the beach when I don't want to with someone I don't want to go to the beach with.

    Whoo. The week has just multiplied in greatness.

  • Again?

    foxdemon
    Aug 11, 2011, 7:54:27 AM | 2 minutes

    First, my plans with one of my friends needs to get cancelled because I'm drowning in the load of work that has been dropped like a bomb on me, and now, two days later, I make possible plans and then what happens? Someone is dropping by the person's house and, I guess, they're going to hang out? I have no idea, I just know that it sucks because I was looking forward to having something nice and simple and chill at my house and now this will likely not be happening. It'll [likely] be one of the following three things:

    1) No one comes over.

    2) I get snatched up to hang with the person and their other friend.

    Or 3) The person's friend joins us on this lovely day at my home and who knows what the hell will happen? I want to meet this person, as I want to and am willing to meet anyone my boyfriend is friends with that I have heard of, but the week for this is crappy like no other.

    I just find myself slightly distant and mildly frustrated towards it because I just wanted one thing to go smoothly this week, you know? It's bad enough that I'll be waking up early in the morning to finish off what little is left on my list (because I refused to do anything major yesterday due to still being exhausted), why can't I just have one little nice thing this week? Or were the dance sneakers it? Because I don't find paying for something to be the kind of thing that's nice and chill and simple at my house. -_- (Nice as they are.)

    Now, back to conquering Europe I go! (Inside joke, worry not. No world domination plans are underway, I swear. If they were, cupcakes and smoothies would be everywhere. Another inside joke...)

  • For Once...

    foxdemon
    Aug 9, 2011, 11:25:22 PM | 4 minutes

    For once, I would nearly kill to have him coddle me...I hate being babied and coddled. I hate it with a fiery passion to rival the sun. I like my pain to be recognized, of course, but I hate to be coddled. But right now, more than anything, I just want to curl up and cry because I just HURT and all I want is to see him and to cry on his shoulder and let out my pain instead of keeping the emotional pain and stress bottled up and any damn excuse to see him would be fantastic.

    My father has dumped a lot of work on me. I'm not bothered by the amount of work, no, but I am bothered and now stressed the hell out over the time crunch on the work. Part of the time crunch is my own damn fault because I planned everything out and rushed myself when I know I have more time. But I want to get it done and over with...There probably wouldn't be a problem if more work from other sources hadn't been slapped on my agenda.

    In my efforts to get things done quicker, I have succeeded in cutting my finger, cutting my face because I tripped in the garage and the board smacked me near my eye, crushed my hand (nothing's broken), needed to wrap up two of my fingers, dehydrated myself, and now my peripheral neuropathy has made an appearance. And my back hurts, too.

    For my father, I've had to make certificates and put ribbons on nametags for a symposium (all needed to be done today and are finished), put a stupid chair together after painting it (which hurt my hand in the first place, the painting), start painting ANOTHER chair (which I will also have to put together), and clear rocks from the back yard.

    For my boyfriend, I've been stressing the hell out over being his editor. I can't find the time to finish editing the freaking bare-bones beginning of his novel, and I feel so bad that it's not entirely done yet (all I had to do was clean it up and present the corrected piece to him!). And, to make things worse, a good chunk of my corrections were lost to the abyss of deletion at some point in the night, so I'm kind of screwed on that. All those notes and corrections...Just...gone. POOF! Into nothingness. (I don't even have to do this, but I want to help him with this and I am a grammar Nazi - my best friend says I'm grammar Hitler - so correcting his work is my heaven AND my hell.)

    And then I have the tasks that I have brought on myself. The first is going through my room like a damn hurricane and just going nuts on cleaning. I've graduated, you see, so there's a LOT of things that I need to start getting rid of. This includes old schoolwork, old papers of any sort that have no value, old worksheets, and just random crap that needs to go. And I have boxes in a separate closet that had trash in them, so I've thrown all that away and put non-essential things into them and they are now back in that other closet. And I've taken it upon myself to start compiling all my old work because I may publish (as people keep telling me to do), so I'm going through tons of papers in case that happens and transferring all my poetry to the computer. It doesn't seem like much, but you really have no idea how much there is...

    So, in sum...I'm stressed as hell and I, for once, would like to be coddled and held and loved and I would like to just cry out my stress on the shoulder of the one I love, the one who inspires me like no one else (though I have yet to tell him I've been rather inspired lately by him, more inspired than usual), the one who makes me feel the happiest and like I have nothing to fear. (Other than losing someone so supportive and caring and kind to me...)

    Bah. I need to go.

    Bye, bye!

  • Sharing is Caring

    foxdemon
    Aug 9, 2011, 9:44:06 AM | 3 minutes

    You know how sometimes you get excited over something and you really wanna show someone that something because, in your mind, it's damn epic and the coolest shit there is? (At least in that moment?) And their curiosity seems to be piqued and you're so ready to show them while at the same time wanting to keep this epicness to yourself? And finally you're going to show them but wait...what's this? They're leaving? (As they keep doing earlier and earlier as of late...) I'm living in that moment right now.

    The person tells you to feel free to show them and send it in a message, but as soon as they said they were leaving, you kinda switch right from "OMFG, I AM SO SHOWING YOU." straight to "Oh, alright then. The time has passed in the blink of an eye. I'm good. My courage has just flown out the window so...never mind. Bye! Sleep well!"

    Yup. That's me right now.

    Excitedness - GONE

    Feeling of Epic Proportions - DEFLATED

    Courage - PISSED ITSELF AND RAN OFF

    Oh yes. Moment foiled, crushed, flattened back out and then shredded into the tiniest bits the world has ever seen. Meh. I don't even know why I was going to show my boyfriend the exciting thing anyways.

    Maybe it was because he says that I write well, but I generally only write depressing things. It's true, yes, but it's what I write well. Not my fault. But I DO write so much more than depressing things. I really do. And I did this MASSIVE poem-dump over the past few hours and I still have so much more to post. Thought I would give it a rest for a while...But anyways...I've semi-abandoned DeviantArt because it bores me lately (I'll go back, just give it a week.) and I wanted to post my stuff where NO ONE knows me AT ALL. So, I did the massive poem-dump and there's a lot of love poems and there's still more normal and non-depressing poetry I have to get from DA, and I wanted to be all like "Hey! Lookie here! I'm not entirely depressing in all that I write! SEE?!?!" and I really wanted to show him the stuff I have posted to RedCurtain because I don't normally show people my "sexy poetry" and I felt like showing him. But that courage, as previously stated, has pissed itself and ran off. Yuppers. Sure has.

    Blah. Oh well. Maybe in a few months I'll want to again and the moment will pass and then I'll start the cycle all over again until I just scream and pull up the damn page while he's here at my house and say "Look if you want. I don't care. It's all crap anyways, because I suck at writing." in an incredibly exasperated tone because it kind of bothers me that he seems to think that all I write is depressing things. That kind of sucks, really. And, to be honest, it kind of hurts even though it shouldn't. It's not like some debilitating wound, no, but it still kind of hurts.

    Whatever. I'm probably just being whiny, right?

    I'm hungry. I think I'm going to go raid the cupboards in silence for something to eat. Though I don't have any snack foods, so I wonder how this will pan out...

  • Hello Old Work

    foxdemon
    Aug 8, 2011, 7:03:49 AM | 2 minutes

    As I sit here in the designated "writing corner" of my room, I sift through old boxes, filled with binders and folders and random papers and other useless junk. Most of this is ready to go into the trash, but, being me, I have to go through every bit of it to see what I want to keep. I'm much like a hoarder that way, and that's something that I get from my parents. (My mother has the perfect base mentality for a hoarder and my father is a paper packrat. Moving on...)

    So, as I go through all these papers and junk, I find many old poems that I wrote starting in my Freshman year. There are so many, it's unbelievable. (It's unbelievable because I wrote so much before my inspiration ran out, which is about a two year span.) I just wish that I still had the drive to write, the ability to keep writing. I've had writer's cube (Yes, cube. It's that bad.) for the past two years. I've barely written a thing, and what comes out, I'm lucky to have produced. My imagination's deep well seems to have run dry.

    I suppose that, if I truly loved to write anymore, it would bother me more. On occasion I'll enjoy writing, but that's normally only when an idea pops into my head and it actually works and isn't so much of a struggle as it is a simple transferance of thought to paper.

    I've come across old stories that I've written (mostly fanfiction) and things I've written for old boyfriends...What did I do with them? I threw them away. Unless it's a poem, my main form of writing because it's what I'm good at, and it doesn't suck, I won't keep it. Simple enough, yes? And as soon as those poems are up on here or on my DeviantArt, I'll throw them away, too.

    C'est fini.